


The Spirit Moves in thee

by SecretStorms



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood Magic, Bondage and Discipline, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Possession, Ritual Sex, Rough Sex, Thorin goes mad, Weirdness, noncon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-09-27 02:38:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9946544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretStorms/pseuds/SecretStorms
Summary: While the dwarves stay in Laketown, Thorin decides the time is right to enact the ancient dwarf ritual that will seal his nephews as true heirs to the Line of Durin. This means he must subject them to certain unnatural acts that might go against their will, but Thorin knows it is for the greater good of his people. There also might be part of him that longs to make them his slaves, and so Thorin's slide into sexual sin and madness begins.Contains noncon, bondage, and some violence.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: contains adult themes and sexual/physical violence. Includes non-consensual/dubcon sex, and dark themes of slavery and madness. For adults only.

The moon was just a sliver in the sky, casting weird shadows about the tall pines trees that lined the shores of the great lake. And as the little band walked on into the trees, Thorin was glad of the cover the darkness brought to him. What needed to be done tonight weighed heavily on his heart.

But do it he must.

Behind him, his two nephews stepped lightly over the earth, still unaware of their exact role in the evening’s proceedings, and for that Thorin was glad. If they understood what was to happen to them, he knew they would not come. They still did not suspect that Dwalin and Balin, Thorin’s two oldest and most trusted companions, were here to ensure their compliance with the ancient dwarven ritual.

As the little group approached the small clearing, Thorin felt his chest constrict. Despite his reluctance to enact the ritual, he knew there was a small part of him that stiffened in anticipation. His nephews were both beautiful youths: fresh-faced, firm-fleshed, and unbroken. Many a time on their travels, he had felt his eyes seeking out their bodies. He watched their figures when they slept, tracing the outline of their hips under their sleeping cloaks. He stole fixed, furtive glances at their bare bodies when they bathed in the rivers and streams.

And sometimes, when he was alone with his thoughts and away from prying eyes, he used his hand to pleasure himself as he remembered the pale, creamy skin of Kili’s buttocks and the golden curls that lined Fili’s chest.

He wanted them: the sons of his own sister. He wanted to take their perfect, handsome bodies. And tonight, he was going to have them.

Whether they willed it or not.

The ritual in question was an ancient one, used for centuries to cement the line of Durin and the right to rule the dwarven race. Thorin himself had undergone it at the age of 75, and though the memory of the pain and humiliation burned brightly in his mind, he understood there was no cruelty or animosity directed towards him. His abuse had not been meant personally: like so many griefs and injuries, it was just another tradition he was expected to comply with, as the future king of his people.

He knew Fili and Kili would understand in time, and in time perhaps they would forgive him too. If any of them survived the horrors of Smaug, that was.

They finally reached the white stone slab in the middle of the clearing, the one Dwalin and Balin had placed before nightfall, while hiding other ceremonial objects around the makeshift altar. Thorin glanced around the clearing, making sure that they were indeed alone, and sheltered from prying eyes.

This ritual was for royalty alone.

“My friends,” Thorin’s voice boomed around the clearing, rich and deep, “we have reached our destination. The ceremony must now begin. The ceremony of Durin, where Mahal himself will invest my heirs and nephews with his earthly powers, should I tomorrow fail on my quest and be slain by Smaug.”

Thorin saw Dwalin and Balin sidle up beside Fili and Kili, ready to grab them should they try and escape.

“Take off your clothes.”

Both of his nephews blinked in surprise at their uncle’s command. They knew the ceremony involved arcane dwarf rituals, but they hadn’t imagined any need for nudity would be involved. Slowly and reluctantly, they began to peel off their layers, and Thorin saw the uncertainty in their faces.

Kili regarded his uncle with his solemn, dark eyes. “Must we remove everything, Uncle? The night is cold.”

Thorin nodded. “Everything.”

He didn’t trust himself to say anymore, he could feel the anticipation within him build, with every scrap of cotton and piece of leather that Fili and Kili stripped from themselves. They piled their clothes up casually, in a pile beside them, shivering under the starlight as their naked skin felt the chills.

Thorin took a moment to appraise them both, trying to decide which of their untouched bodies pleased him most. Both of them were virgins, he knew that much. Unknown and untouched by any female hands, ready for him now as pure and unspoilt as the fresh, white snow.

Kili stood slightly taller and thinner, and his features were finer and more feminine. There was an almost elfin quality to his beauty that Thorin enjoyed, a willowy quality to his slender limbs and creamy, white skin. The dark bushy hairs on his groin drew Thorin’s gaze, and the long, white shaft that hung down low made his breath quicken. He studied Kili’s cock for some moments, wondering how it would feel to enclose that organ within his palm and squeeze till Kili squealed: to milk his nephew dry, until he’d spilled every last drop of seed that his young body produced. For Thorin knew that Kili would not resist, he was too trusting and innocent, and would not understand the nature of the violation until much later.

His focus shifted to Fili, and he saw that the older brother was watching Thorin closely. He’d no doubt seen the tension and desire on his uncle’s face, and even now was wondering what lay in store.

For Fili was shrewd, Thorin knew, and honest: the worry was there right now, in his nephew’s clear blue eyes. There was a reticence in his posture, as if he hated being stood there on display, his thickly-haired chest and groin glinting golden under the silvery moonlight. His penis was almost hidden from view, as if it wanted to evade Thorin’s clutches already, he was less endowed than his brother, Thorin saw, but still, there was always the chance that his shy, stubby cock might unfurl into something greater if Thorin touched him the right way. And Thorin meant to touch him in all sorts of ways, until his nephew’s chiselled face crumbled in defeat as his body and spirit were claimed by his uncle.

Thorin met Fili’s blue eyes and smiled. He could feel the blood collecting in his groin already at the thought of the struggle he would face with this one. He decided to take Kili first, and leave the harder part till later. There would be less fight in Fili once he knew what had been done to his brother.

“Dwalin, escort Fili from the clearing, his ceremony shall be last. Balin, bring Kili to me. His initiation shall begin now.”

The two brothers shared a nervous glance, but Dwalin wheeled Fili round at once, and had him marching for the trees before Kili had even stepped forward.

Thorin beckoned to the altar, bidding Kili forwards.

“Lie on your back on the altar, Kili. It is time.”

With eyes as wide as a fawn’s, his younger nephew nodded and made for the stone slab. He lay on his back, obviously uncomfortable on the cold, white marble, but he made no move to run.

“Thank you, Kili. Now we will restrain you on the slab before the ritual begins. You might feel some discomfort as I pass on the gift of Mahal, so these restraints are for the benefit and safety of both of us. Do you understand?”

Kili nodded miserably, obviously unsure of himself. But Thorin and Balin were already enclosing his wrists, knees and ankles to the thick leather ties hanging from each of the slab’s four corners and sides. Within seconds, the young dwarf was tied tightly to the altar, his naked chest heaving with nerves as he contemplated how helpless he was now, how his body was theirs to play with, and there was nothing he could do to stop them.

“Thorin, what’s going to happen? What is this ritual?”

Kili’s voice was soft, and Thorin knew his nephew was scared. As he himself had been scared, all those years ago. He smiled fondly at the young dwarf, reminding himself that he needed to be gentle with the lad.

“You’ll see, Kili. It won’t take long, and then you will be a true heir of Durin. Now hush, let me put this on you...”

Balin handed Thorin what he was looking for, and the dwarf king quickly pushed the gag into Kili’s mouth, wrapping it around the dwarf’s head before he had time to register what it was.

Kili mumbled something, and Thorin saw his fear had intensified.

Without further event, he decided to begin. The sooner this was over, the better for Kili. And Thorin couldn’t bring himself to wait a moment longer, now his nephew was in position and ready for the taking. His white flesh shivered under Thorin’s gaze, and as his uncle walked to the foot of the slab, he drank in the view of Kili’s parted thighs and soft, round testicles, and the small hole of his anus, ready for his uncle’s affections.

But first, Thorin knew he must warm his nephew up. He had no intention to hurt the youth any more than he had to, he had loved Kili since he was a boy and wanted the lad’s experience to be as painless as possible.

Although by nature of the ritual itself, Kili’s fear was unavoidable. And justified.

Sex between male dwarfs was a crime under Khuzdul law, and any dwarf caught in the act would be exiled from the community for life. It was a crime that went against their religion, for if a dwarf male received a penis, it was believed that his soul would be forever owned and enslaved by the one who had used his body. His very life energy would be controlled by the one who penetrated him. And if that one so desired, that life energy could be taken by his own, and the dwarf’s soul would be consumed. It was the first step towards the utter destruction of a dwarf’s spirit, and under no circumstances could be practised by ordinary dwarves.

The great exception, of course, was the ritual of Mahal, where the line of Durin were possessed by the spirit of Mahal: they were owned and taken as vessels by the great god himself, their souls being forfeit to his will, so that their line of sacred kingship would endure down the ages.

All Thorin had to do was take the bodies of Fili and Kili, and their souls would be absorbed by the great god of their people, just like their ancestors had been before them. For the price of being a royal dwarf was self-sacrifice. When death took them they would be extinguished forever.

But the line of Durin and the power of Mahal would endure.

So they said anyway, although Thorin was unconvinced. He’d long ago lost faith in the ancient superstitions of his people. But the ritual still held a certain appeal for him.

He looked down at Kili, bound and waiting, and licked his lips. He wondered which part of his nephew’s body to touch first. He reached his hands out and felt Kili’s slim thighs: the long, sinuous muscles visible under his white skin.

“Mmmm?”

Kili was obviously trying to speak, but Thorin ignored him. There was no conversation necessary for this ritual, only the communion of their bodies was necessary to join Kili to the spirit of Mahal.

Thorin’s hand crept up the young dwarf’s thigh, and took the lad’s penis in his hand. He gripped it firmly in his fingers, enjoying the warmth and weight of it in his palm, and the way it began to stiffen right away at his touch, as if Kili himself were eager for his uncle’s attentions.

Thorin began to stroke his nephew’s cock insistently, working it harder and harder until Kili moaned under his gag. Surely he must know how this would end now, so Thorin told himself that Kili was enjoying it, and must be ready to receive his royal gift by now. Thorin was stiff and needy: the sight of the small, dark hole between Kili’s cheeks, and how it bobbed around as Thorin’s hand pumped Kili harder had him transfixed. He knelt between his nephew thighs, working out how to enter him.

Kili must have sensed what his uncle was about to do, and when Thorin brushed the lad’s entrance with his stiff cock, he saw Kili try and squirm free. The look of fear in his dark eyes was palpable, and his attempts to escape frenzied.

He didn’t want what was about to happen to his body and soul, any more than Thorin wanted to make it happen.

But make it happen he would.

Steeling himself, he took a deep breath and began sliding his length inside Kili’s tight, narrow opening. He heard the choked-off scream from Kili’s lips even through the gag, but still he inched forwards, claiming his nephews body inch by inch, wondering if he really was destroying the sovereignty of his nephew’s soul with every push.

The thought was incredibly arousing.

Thorin felt the surge of excitement course through his body, as he forced his young nephew to yield to his cock. His first thrust reached the end, with Thorin buried up to his balls in Kili’s anal passage, his entire length pressed into his nephew’s quivering, trembling body. And Thorin had to remind himself to stay gentle. He didn’t want to make Kili bleed, any more than he had to.

Slowly and gently, Thorin slid himself in and out of his nephew. He was aware that beside him, Balin was fingering his own cock and beating himself off. The sexual energy was infectious, as the old dwarf witnessed the spiritual possession of one of the dwarf nation’s two sacred flowers. From Kili’s bodily submission, they would all be linked to Mahal. And through Kili’s soul’s conquest, they would all live in the Great Halls after their bodily death.

The violation of the young dwarf was a holy act.

And Thorin felt the righteousness of his mission energise his enjoyment. He tried to hold back, but knew he was on the edge of coming, of planting his creamy seed deep within Kili’s gorgeous body, and filling him up with the sticky, white seed that would burn him inside forevermore.

He felt his nephew wiggle frantically, trying to escape and evade what he knew now to be his destiny, but the restraints were too strong, and Thorin’s desire too relentless.

“Kili, I claim your soul, in the name of... Mahal.”

Thorin struggled to utter the ancient curse, and no sooner were the words dispatched, than he felt his cock begin spurting out the thick, acid seed into his nephew’s cavity.

Underneath him, Kili moaned and went still, his trembling now coming from the deep fear that stilled the blood in his veins, as he felt the curse seep into his soul, claiming him as his uncle’s slave, his energy to be consumed by Mahal and his body controlled by Thorin.

With a satisfied sigh, Thorin withdrew, spilling some of the blood and seed onto the stone altar, and the rest all over Kili’s flaccid penis. The dwarf king smiled in pleasure.

“Well done, Kili. You were as good as I knew you would be.”

Thorin rose unsteadily to his feet, and began unlatching the ties from his younger nephew’s limbs. But even when they removed the gag, Kili just lay there hopelessly, his eyes glazed over and his body trembling still.

“Am I going to die, Uncle?”

Thorin looked at him, beautiful and terrified, and felt a surge of sympathy course through his veins.

“Yes, Kili. It is the curse of our family. And you must bear your share of it alongside the rest of us.”

Kili sniffed, and Thorin could see tears forming in the corners of the dwarf’s brown eyes.

“Please Uncle, don’t do it to Fili. Spare him. If you love either of us, don’t hurt my brother!”

Thorin smiled, touched by the young dwarf’s loyalty. And it was true, in a way. Now Thorin had anointed another, younger member of his family, it wasn’t strictly necessary to subject Fili to the same awful fate. But even at the mention of his blonde nephew, Thorin could feel his cock stiffening again.

He very much wanted to subject Fili to the same fate, and wipe the insolent stare from those blue eyes forever.

He was not going to hold back on his older nephew.

“No, Kili. Fili must take it like the rest of us. He would want it that way.”

Kili shook his head, and sat up.

“Why do you have to do it, Uncle? Leave him alone!”

Thorin motioned to Balin, and saw the old dwarf’s hands were coated in his own sticky cream. He nodded approvingly.

“Escort Kili to the river and see that he is washed. Then take him back to Laketown. His ritual is over.”

Balin nodded, and strode over to Kili, hauling him roughly to his feet.

“Come on, lad. Let’s mend what can be mended.”

Thorin watched as Balin held one of the two cloaks they’d brought, and draped it around Kili’s naked body. Then he was taken in the older dwarf’s hand, and led out of the clearing for his ritual cleansing.

Thorin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, searching inside himself.

Maybe he could feel the spirit of Kili inside him now. Maybe Kili was becoming his possession and plaything – and maybe Thorin would own his nephew forever now – before they both died and their souls became part of Mahal again.

Thorin licked his lips, and thought about what he could force Kili to submit to now, now he owned his flesh. The lad’s body would be visited again by Thorin: his tastes had been well and truly awoken now and Thorin would claim him again.

His thoughts turned to Fili, and how to proceed with his undoing.

He strode back to the altar, and found the bell that they’d left there, ready to summon back Dwalin with his older nephew.

Thorin rung it, and sat down on the altar. He realised his cock still hung out from his fly, and wondered whether to conceal himself, or whether to let Fili see upfront that his suspicions were correct. He knew the blonde would try and fight back, and part of him was relishing the thought of that fight.

He was not going to be so gentle with Fili.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin continues with his crazy ritual of Mahal... but does he go too far this time??
> 
> This chapter continues the sick and sordid story of Thorin's descent into madness.

Thorin heard footsteps from the trees and saw Dwalin emerge with the young heir to the throne of Erebor. To his surprise, Thorin saw that Fili’s hands were bound behind his back – and the gag had already been placed over his head. Fili moved stiffly, pushed forward every now and then by Dwalin.

He was clearly unwilling to return to his uncle.

“He tried to run back here, and find his brother.” Dwalin shrugged. “He didn’t get far though. But I thought it was better to tie the prince up first, before he caused any real mischief.”

Thorin nodded, allowing his hand to brush his cock as he took in Fili’s sweating, heaving flesh.

“Thank you for your assistance, Dwalin. And you, Fili, you should show your elders more respect.”

The lad’s eyes were fixed on Thorin’s rising penis with a look of horror, and Thorin nodded as his heir took in the blood on the altar and put two and two together.

“That’s right, Fili.” Thorin agreed, and took a step closer to the lad. “I took your brother’s body on the altar, to infuse myself with his spirit. His soul is mine now, to be absorbed by Mahal on our physical deaths. Do you understand?”

Fili nodded, the fear in his blue eyes turning to hatred as he stared back sullenly at his uncle.

Thorin strode up to his nephew, and cupped a hand around Fili’s testicles. With a gasp, his nephew try to squirm free, but Thorin ignored his protests. He fondled his nephew, seeing the shocked outrage in his nephew’s blue eyes and the grimace of disgust on his face at this uninvited indecency. He wondered how it would feel to crush his balls flat in his hand, until Fili cried out in pain and was made to apologise for his insolence.

One of these days, he knew they might find out.

He had all sorts of delicious pains he wanted to inflict on Fili, and not all of them were sexual. The lad needed to be toughened up, if he was going to make a good king – he needed to learn to bear physical pain without complaint, far better than he did already. His mother had cosseted him in the Blue Mountains, but there would be no such indulgence for him in Erebor.

With a greater pressure, Thorin squeezed at Fili’s ripe, round testicles. It was enough to hurt: but only just. He heard his nephew’s sharp gasp of pain, and felt his own cock stiffening at once. He craved that shock and fear on Fili’s face. He wondered what it would take to see it permanently etched there.

“Take his gag off, Dwalin. I want to hear him speak.”

Dwalin complied, removing the bit between Fili’s jaws and taking the harness off from his head. The young dwarf shook his blonde braids free and spat on the ground.

“What are you doing? Why did you hurt my brother, Thorin? You didn’t need to do that! I’m your heir!”

Thorin nodded.

“Kili is also my heir. He has every right to share in this ritual. It is not for you, boy, to scold your ancestors and condemn their sacrifice.”

Thorin squeezed his nephew’s balls again, hard enough to earn a cry of pain from Fili.

“In any case, it’s yourself that you should worry for, Fili. You’re next. I’m going to take your body, just like I did your brother’s. And when I do it, I will absorb you, and own your spirit in the name of Mahal, and you will be forced to obey me forever. You will submit to your elders tonight one way or another.”

The blue eyes stared back at him, and Thorin saw the young dwarf’s fear. He was smart enough to know what was meant by the words, and he shuddered at their horrible implications. But there was a spirit there that Thorin saw beyond the dwarf’s fear.

A spirit of defiance.

Thorin wanted it. He would take it for himself now.

He would break his nephew’s body if that’s what it took to bring him to heel. Damn him for his arrogance!

He pushed his nephew to the ground, and Fili fell with a cry of surprise, landing on his back. In a second, Thorin was on top of him, pinning him to the ground and grabbling for position against the lad’s muscular, young body. Fili tried to twist away and crawl across the ground, but Thorin’s weight soon stopped him.

The larger, older dwarf pushed his young nephew’s face to the grasses, and sat on the flailing legs.

“You will lie still, Fili, or you will suffer the worse for it!”

Thorin felt Fili shrink under his touch, but he wasn’t still.

In anger, Thorin reached down and smacked his nephew’s firm buttocks. The noise rang out through the clearing, and Thorin struck him again, harder this time, so his own palm stung.

“Next time it I will strike you somewhere worse.”

Thorin watched as a red print formed on Fili’s white flesh. The dwarf had born his uncle’s ministrations well, without a cry, and the dwarf king was pleased. There was hope for the lad yet.

From the shadows, he heard his friend cough.

“Thorin, shall we take him to the altar for the ritual? It doesn’t looked comfortable for either of you down there.”

Thorin considered. “It’s alright, Dwalin. We’ll stay here.”

“But the prince...”

“Is not going to enjoy this whatever, Dwalin. Save your concern for him for after.”

The dwarf king stared at his prize in the soft moonlight.

Now that he could feel his nephew’s hot, fearful body under him he could feel the impatience rising in his blood. His nephew’s back was so strong and supple, and his skin so fair: white and soft, with the occasional pale freckle. His long blonde hair fell about his shoulders, obscuring Thorin’s view of those proud blue eyes.

It was time to feel what Fili’s body promised.

With care, Thorin reached his hand between the back of Fili’s warm thighs, and forced them apart with his greater strength. His finger raked the cleft between Fili’s reddened cheeks and found his nephew’s tight, virgin hole.

“No, Uncle. Please don’t!”

Fili implored his uncle, as he felt himself overpowered on the grass. He struggled with all his strength to tip his uncle off of his back, no doubt hoping to run to freedom. But his uncle was too heavy, and Fili’s movements too desperate and clumsy. Thorin knew if he had his wits about him the lad might have managed it, but he could see the fear building in Fili’s quivering flesh.

His panic made him easier to control.

And it made his ritual deflowering all the more enjoyable for Thorin.

Thorin lined up his hardened shaft with Fili’s cleft, spreading his legs wider apart to allow for deeper thrusting. The young blonde squirmed, frantically trying to escape his uncle’s terrible intentions.

“Hold him down, Dwalin. Hold his feet still.”

“Uncle, please!”

But Thorin heeded not to his nephew’s pleas. He lowered his swollen shaft to Fili’s hole, probing the taught opening with the thickened tip of his penis, earning a groan of anguish from his nephew.

Fili tensed, feeling Thorin’s cock seeking entry to his anus. The young dwarf struggled and clenched his body tightly shut, not knowing that his efforts were only enticing his uncle further. Thorin wanted to take him roughly.

Thorin wanted to break Fili to his will.

And by Mahal – he was going to.

Thorin leered down at Fili, imagining the swagger and composure had completely deserted his nephew’s face. The only thing visible on his flushed face would now be wild-eyed desperation. And it would all be in vain.

He took his nephew’s blonde hair in his hand, and pushed his face down to the grass with the back of his fist.

And slowly, ever so slowly, he forced his swollen penis through Fili’s narrow entrance.

The young dwarf’s groans were immediate.

Thorin closed his eyes, savouring the discomfort he felt as he broke Fili open.

And soon, Thorin felt the head of his shaft break through Fili’s tightly-muscled defences, and allowed himself a small smile. He knew he was past the worst now.

He shoved himself as deep as he could Fili’s body, and heard the young dwarf cry out as his real pain began.

“Fili, I claim you body, in the name of Mahal!”

He held his nephew’s head hard into the dirt, and thrust inside the young dwarf again and again.

Fili screamed. A muffled, anguished cry of betrayal and hurt, and Thorin felt a hot shock of pleasure rip through his cock as the sense of power overtook him. His nephew’s violation was every bit as enjoyable as he’d dreamed.

He could feel his nephew’s passage stretching to accommodate him, as the muscle and skin was torn apart by the raw, merciless power of his cock. And Fili’s struggles grew weaker as his cries intensified. He knew resistance was pointless now. He was being claimed.

All he could do was feel his body’s violation.

It was just a shame their union must end so soon.

Thorin let himself pound his nephew as hard as he liked, and pumped into Fili’s bleeding hole as far as his meaty cock would go. He felt Fili stiffen with every pulse underneath him, and had a sudden idea.

He withdrew from Fili, and turned the dwarf onto his back.

Fili’s face was muddy and grass-stained, but the blue eyes looked up at him in silent pleading, as if the prince still thought there was a chance his uncle would stop. As if Thorin wasn’t serious when he said he would take his very spirit for himself, and claim his body as his property. As if he would do all this and not take his prize.

“Please, uncle...”

Fili closed his eyes, not wanting to watch his uncle’s twitching face anymore. But Thorin had other ideas for his heir.

With his hand he groped at his nephew’s blonde curls until he found Fili’s limp dick. Evidently no pleasure was getting through to the prince yet – but Thorin was going to change that. He bent down over his nephew, and let his tongue take a taste of Fili’s cock.

He heard his nephew moan in surprise as he felt the wet tongue slide over his unused, untouched shaft. The lad had never had anyone touch him like this before, although doubtless at his age he must have yearned for it.

And now his body was awakening, under his own uncle’s urgent touch.

Thorin could feel Fili’s skin tremble, and his hands tried to push his uncle’s head away. But Thorin was insistent. He used his tongue to call the blood into his nephew’s organ, and as the young dwarf began to stiffen, he rubbed the budding erection in his hand, forcing his nephew harder.

And very soon Thorin heard Fili groan in pleasure, as his cheeks reddened and the blue eyes closed tightly.

But still he begged his uncle, in a ragged, pained voice.

“No, Thorin, stop it, stop it!”

Fili might not have liked the way that his uncle was stimulating him, but his body certainly did. His cock had doubled in length, and Thorin found himself rather admiring its proud, round head and silken skin. Thorin licked on that head and watched the creases etch onto his nephew’s brow as the sickeningly sweet pleasure forced him closer to the end.

Fili’s pleadings stopped, and his breath came in gasps, and Thorin knew it was nearly time. There was only so much the lad could take.

It never took long to break a virgin, and his nephew would be no exception.

The dwarf king could see that Fili was on the brink, so he spread the young dwarf’s legs again, ready to take him again. He would have his own enjoyment too, after being so generous to his impudent young nephew.

“No, please, uncle...”

Fili whined in pain, as he felt his uncle burrowing back inside his body. Thorin was eager for them to end it as one, in one flesh, now that he knew his nephew’s composure was close to failing.

With his hand, he continued to work on Fili, and when he saw his blonde nephew’s face start to break apart with the force of his first, imparted orgasm, he buried his cock viciously into his nephew’s body to ensure the pleasure was mixed with pain for his young heir.

Fili’s cock discharged his white creamy seed all over his thighs, and Thorin smiled greedily as his nephew lay moaning underneath him. The sweat was pooling on his brow, and his skin was flushed red all over his face and chest.

He was ruined.

Just how his uncle had desired.

And with a victorious grin, Thorin allowed his own cock to unload itself again. But the intensity of his release was shocking.

He felt himself throb and spurt inside Fili, and cried out the blonde dwarf’s name as his cock flowed freely and overwhelmed his senses. He felt his nephew’s body breaking under his power, and heard Fili’s cries merge into his own.

And in that moment of sexual bliss, he knew he had Fili’s soul within his grasp. He could feel his nephew's life-force inside his own, bright and vital. All he had to do was draw it into himself, and it would be his...

With a cry of confusion, Thorin withdrew.

This was not the way it was supposed to be.

He was worried suddenly, and stood up at once, towering over his sobbing, crying nephew. His feet were unsteady, and his thoughts were in turmoil. Of course the old superstitions weren’t real? They were just ceremony, to mollify and pacify his people, surely?

What else could they be?

Fili opened his blue eyes and stared in shame and confusion at his uncle. He knew he had been bested. He had been deflowered, and they all could all see he had been forced to enjoy it.

Thorin wondered if his nephew had felt what he himself had.

“Fili, you belong to Mahal now. You are my true heir. Do you understand?”

His nephew nodded, and a pained sigh escaped his lips.

Thorin reached down, and ruffled the dwarf’s hair, suddenly afraid for him.

Fili flinched, and turned his head away.

“Come on lad, you need to get cleaned up.” Dwalin stepped forward with a cloak for Fili, but the young dwarf shook his head.

“I will go myself. I don’t want your help.”

He stared at Thorin in disgust from the ground, and for a minute the king was lost for words. This wasn’t how it had been at his own ritual, all those years ago...

Without looking at them, Fili collected the small pile of his clothes and made for the trees. Dwalin obviously wanted to go after him, but Thorin shook his head. They may as well leave him be, if he was going to sulk like this.

Thorin would ensure he soon snapped out of it.

Away from those accusing eyes at last, the king smiled. He remembered all the holy works he had done in the clearing – the look of submission he’d etched on Kili’s beautiful face, the slick oozing that coated his shaft – the blood and seed mixed on the marble altar.

All was as it should be, he thought.

All was good.

He was like a god.


	3. Chapter 3

The dwarf king stalked through the dark halls, each footstep taking him further from the small band of companions waiting outside on the ramparts. The dragon was dead, they’d told him: they’d seen it fall from the sky above the burning streets of Laketown. One of the men in the town must have shot it after all.

Erebor was his again. They were all saved.

And it was now Thorin’s fervent desire to thank his patron god for this unforeseen boon. He had suspected the dragon would incinerate them all as soon as it woke from its slumber, but none of them had so much as been singed...

He had the god to thank for this.

Mahal had protected them, and brought good fortune to their quest.

And now, he must be appropriately rewarded.

As the god’s diving representative at the head of the line of Durin, Thorin was duty-bound to honour their god. He would begin by reigniting the sacred flame in the temple of Mahal, located by the main halls of Erebor, beside the royal family’s chambers.

He knew the location well enough, although it had been decades since he trod this way. As he came to the end of the hall and turned the corner to the temple, he was confronted by the familiar statue of Mahal, his blacksmith’s hammer raised is greeting to the solitary gaze of his living protégé.

Thorin stopped, and knelt in wonderment. He’d never before noticed how like him the statue was in physical appearance, as if his own face had been used for the modelling.

It could be another sign.

Thorin rose, and opened the thick, iron door to the temple sanctuary, breathing a sigh of relief that all was as he remembered. The rich, gold panelling everywhere was still intact, and the polished black altar unbroken.

He felt his spirits lift at the sight.

And instantly, his thoughts returned to the two nephews he’d blessed for Mahal, and what should now be done with them.

They were there with the others, on the ramparts. Thorin had not wanted them to join him in his search for the temple, and he sensed they were both still angry with him. But much as that troubled his heart, he was not sorry for their treatment.

In fact, whenever he set his eyes on them he remembered how good their tight, warm bodies had felt as he’d drilled into them, and even now he wondered what pretext he could use to touch them again.

Only next time he would do it properly, and would take them fully.

In the woods, he’d been disturbed at the ritual’s success. He had never expected to feel the life force of his nephews within his grasp, ready to be taken for himself... but now that he knew it was possible, he had to admit the thought of strengthening himself with their souls’ energies greatly excited him.

If he tried them second time, he could make himself more powerful than any dwarf who’d ever lived, with just a little of their life-force. He would stop himself before either one of them were permanently damaged.

There must be a way.

He just wondered why the effect had only occurred with Fili.

Thorin stared around the chamber, an idea coming to him. Maybe what Mahal needed was a servant. And maybe that servant should be one of Erebor’s new princes...

He was still deep in thought, plotting the elements to his new scheme, when he heard the footsteps behind him. And as if summoned by divine intervention, Fili stood before him in the doorway.

He looked rather nervous.

“Uncle, I’m sorry for the intrusion. I wanted to speak to you, away from the others...”

Thorin nodded, and gestured for the prince to enter.

“It is no intrusion, Fili. Please, speak your mind. No doubt you will have many questions now we are safely back in our kingdom?”

His nephew nodded, his blue eyes narrowing.

“It’s not about Erebor that I wished to speak. I wanted to talk to you about Kili. About what you did to him.”

Thorin strolled over to the altar, and ran his hand along the polished black stone.

“What of it?”

“I don’t want you to do it again, Uncle. I’ve seen the way you look at him, and it isn’t right. I know you had your fun with him for your traditions, and your ritual – just like you did to me... but if you touch him again, I’ll make you regret it.”

Thorin smiled, and turned to face the younger dwarf.

“Would you rather I touched you instead, Fili? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Did you like the way I felt inside of you?”

His nephew’s face reddened as if struck, and Fili regarded the floor in shame.

Thorin sidled upto him, enjoying the humiliation on the lad’s face. He leant towards his nephew’s ear, noting how Fili flinched as he moved closer.

“You seemed to enjoy it, when I made your seed come dribbling out of your cock.”

Fili straightened himself, and stared at his uncle.

“You know I didn’t want it, Thorin. You forced me to do that. Just like you forced me to submit to you. But I won’t let you do that to my brother again, he’s not – ”

But the dwarf broke off at the sound of approaching company. It was evidently not a conversation he wanted to continue in public hearing, and Thorin could agree with him on that.

Fili gave him a pointed look, as the other members of the company swarmed into the temple. With the exception of Kili, they seemed to be in a celebratory mood.

“Would you look at that, you’re the spitting image of Mahal, Thorin.” Bofur tipped his hat at the stern looking statue with a grin, while beside him Bilbo squinted and sized up the deity.

“I don’t know, he looks pretty angry to me.”

“That’s what I mean.”

From the back of the crowd, Balin raised his voice and addressed the crowd.

“The dragon is dead, we must have a celebration! What does our king command us to do?”

Thorin stepped forward with a smile, bestowing his beatific radiance on the assembled dwarves.

“My friends, we have had a long journey to reach this place. And we must take a while to rest, and recover from our hardships. But we must also give thanks to the one who had made this day a reality. We must reopen this sacred temple of Mahal without delay, and see to it that our saviour is esteemed according to our ancient traditions.”

“Esteemed?” Balin was curious. “But we have no priests, Thorin. What can be done to esteem him?”

Thorin met the gaze of the young, bookish dwarf at the front of the crowd.

“Ori, you shall be tasked with reading all you can about the ancient ceremonies of Mahal. Find all the old scrolls in the Erebor library, and bring them to me. I wish to read up on the subject so our worship of Mahal shall be pure.”

Ori nodded, glad to have an excuse to rummage through the library. “Of course. I’ll bring you some this evening, my lord.”

Thorin nodded serenely, and looked around the room, meeting each one of his company’s eyes in turn. From a darkened corner, he lifted a small golden bowl and passed it to Dwalin.

“We shall pass around the sacred bowl of Mahal, and I want each and every dwarf in this room to contribute a drop of blood into the offering.”

There was consternation, with the dwarves looking confused.

“Does this mean I’m out?” Bilbo squeaked. His face grew pale as he watched Dwalin produce a blade and slice it down his thumb.

“You may be excused, Master Burglar. The religious offering is not open to hobbits, you shall be glad to hear.”

The bowl was passed around the assembled dwarves, who each in turn took Dwalin’s blade and dripped some blood into the bowl. The last to receive it was Fili, who sighed emphatically as he cut into his middle finger. He’d evidently had enough of Mahal and his rituals.

Thorin took the bowl from his nephew, and set it on the altar. And with a grand theatrical gesture, he took a flintstone from his pocket and lit the large, pillar candle on the left side of the black slab.

“This candle represents Mahal: may his power illuminate the corridors of Erebor.” The king took the bowl, and drizzled the blood onto candle, taking care not to extinguish the flame. “With our blood, we pledge to honour and serve Mahal with our lives and our lives’ works.”

The dwarves nodded silently, acknowledging the end of the prayer. Bifur and Bombur looked at each other and frowned, as if wondering what was coming next. And finally Thorin turned round, regarding the dwarves again with his silent, scrutinising stare.

“The temple is lit, and so it must have servants. And I have decided that I want my two nephews to serve as its priests.”

There were gasps around the chamber, and the dwarves stared at Fili and Kili in turn, who were obviously shocked by the suggestion.

“But they’re your heirs, Thorin. They can’t serve as priests and marry, it’s against the rules. How can they further your line if they’re priests?” Balin was not impressed.

Thorin gazed lovingly into Fili’s blue eyes, savouring the stunned surprise he saw in them.

“I will take myself a wife, and father my own heirs. My sister’s sons will serve as my priests. It is a purpose that calls for the most honourable dwarves I can give, for it is only with the assistance of Mahal that this kingdom will once more flourish.”

Fili and Kili were both shaking their heads slowly.

“What are you doing, Uncle? We can’t be priests?” Kili looked distraught.

“We’re the best warriors you have, and you would have us rot away in this chamber?” There was incredulity in Fili’s voice.

But Thorin waved his hand, and gestured around the temple.

“This sanctuary will be reinstated today, by yourselves Fili and Kili. I will hear no more insubordination from either of you, and no more blasphemy either. It will be up to both of you to serve as Mahal’s representatives here in Erebor.”

Both of his nephews stood staring at him, not knowing what they could do to challenge their uncle. Thorin watched them both for a second, and then nodded.

“Good, I’m glad I have your agreement. And now I command you both to strip. Strip off your travelling garments, so your initiation may begin.”

Neither one of his nephews made a move. And Thorin sighed.

“If you will not do it of your own accord, I will have you stripped by the company. It is your choice.”

Kili’s mouth dropped in dismay, and Fili shook his head.

“This is madness, Uncle. We love you, and we respect you. You’ve been like a father to us, for all our lives. Why would you disown us like this now?”

But Thorin regarded the altar solemnly. “You are a gift to the great god of our people, Fili. It is an honour I am bestowing upon you. I am sorry that you see it as a punishment, but in time I think you will change your mind. Now, for the last time, strip.”

Still shaking his head, Fili started to unfasten his clothing, and gave his brother a nod. Soon, both of them had removed their familiar clothing, and stood in front of the assembled company bare and uncovered.

Thorin stared at them both, wishing he were alone with them now so he could press his hands against Kili’s smooth chest, or grab a fistful of Fili’s hair and direct his mouth to the king’s own pleasure...

Soon. Soon he would have them both where he wanted them.

His nephews stared back at him, and Thorin beckoned them to join him at the altar.

“Bend over the altar, faces to the wall.”

His nephews paused, their reluctance apparent in every gesture they made. Slowly, they lowered their stomachs onto the cold, stone slab.

Thorin watched as their pert, tight buttocks were lifted into the air. He had to resist the desire to reach out and squeeze them, and no doubt there were others in the room who felt the same. Fili and Kili were beautiful creatures, and no doubt it was every dwarf’s fantasy to touch them in the way Thorin desired. The company had been on the road for months now, without any feminine distractions, and the lusts of his friends had surely settled on the two, dashing princes.

And maybe, when he was finished with them, Thorin would allow his company to take their fill of the young pair. They deserved some recompense for their loyalty and bravery, after all.

The priestly role could be expanded to include ritual prostitution, subject to the king’s approval. Thorin would very much like to see the look on Fili’s face as he was forced to submit his body to the appetites of every dwarf in the company.

The king regarded the room silently, taking in the way the dwarves’ eyes roved over his nephews exposed bodies. He knew they were thinking about how satisfying it would be to bend over those ripe, tender buttocks and take their stiff cocks loose from their trousers...

And maybe soon, they would find out.

“Draw your swords, my friends. You will line up and use the flat side of the blade to anoint our new priests.”

Without question, the dwarves shuffled into a line, with Thorin at the head. The king slid his sword out from its sheath, and he turned to his nephews’ waiting bodies. Kili was the closest one, and Thorin could see the rigidity in his muscles, already feeling the burn of humiliation as his friends lined up to spank him with their blades.

Thorin smiled, and with a swift motion, he whipped his sword against Kili’s bare ass, earning a little cry from the young dwarf as the metal collided painfully with his flesh.

“I anoint you to the priestly service, Kili son of Dis. You will serve Mahal from now, until I release you from this duty.”

Kili said nothing, but Thorin could see the lad was trembling. With some disgust, Thorin stepped onwards and set his eyes on his older nephew. At least Fili could be relied upon to take it like a dwarf.

Thorin could see Fili was breathing hard, but he suspected it was more anger flowing through his nephew’s veins, than fear or shame. No doubt his nephew would be plotting away, already trying to plan a way out of the predicament for him and his snivelling brother. Not that he would have much room for manoeuvre if Thorin gave the order, and let the rest of his company ride his tight hole one after the other.

The dwarf king raised his sword to shoulder height, and drove it hard against Fili’s bare cheeks with a resounding smack. The lad didn’t flinch, which made Thorin proud: and also strangely disappointed. He wanted to make the dwarf react, for once. He wanted to put him in his place, and not have to listen to any more of his boring, moralising speeches.

Almost forgetting his words, Thorin tried to ignore the red line appearing on his nephew’s white skin and concentrate on the ceremony.

“I anoint you to the priestly service, Fili, son of Dis. You too shall serve Mahal from now, until I release you from this duty.”

Following his lead, the rest of his company took turns to strike his nephews for their ceremonial robing. Most of them did so without any relish, and seemed confused by the whole proceedings. Although there were one or two, who obviously enjoyed their opportunity to spank the princes, if only with their swords...

Thorin could feel the lust building within him, and knew he would need his relief soon. He watched the two reddened rumps of his nephews, wondering which one he should enjoy first.

When the last dwarf had anointed the priests, Thorin waved them all back.

“My friends, thank you for your assistance. I will wait for you in the ramparts, and you will give me a full briefing on the dragon and its last moments. For now, I would have some private words with my two priests of Mahal.”

The assembled dwarves nodded and started muttering softly to each other. Most of them seemed to be relieved the whole process was over, and they could escape Thorin’s strange ideas. While the rest filtered out of the room, Dwalin paced forward, his gaze falling on the young princes, still draped over the stone altar.

“Thorin, please reconsider this. Neither of the boys want it, and they’ll be wasted in here. Erebor needs them on the battlefield, and as suitors for cementing our alliances. They don’t belong here, neither of them.”

Thorin considered. What his old friend said was, of course, correct. But it was not his place to publically rebuke the king on such matters.

“Dwalin, your disapproval is noted. And perhaps in a few months if both of my nephews are unhappy, I will reconsider their roles here in Erebor. But that matter shall be between us, and your opinion is of no consequence.”

Dwalin frowned. “I’ve led your troops into battle in your absence many a time. Your family matters are not my concern, but the military defence of this kingdom is. I meant no offence, my king.”

Thorin smiled, wishing fervently to be rid of these prying eyes.

“Then thank you for your candour, Dwalin. That will be all.”

The tall, strong dwarf nodded, and made to turn and leave. Thorin did not miss his look of concern as he glanced once more at the two prostrate dwarves at the altar, but the soldier wisely decided to hold his tongue.

Finally, Thorin was left alone with his nephews. And he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

“The two of you may rise, it is time for you to dress for the priesthood.”

The two youths stood and stared down at the floor. Neither one of them wanted to look at Thorin, and he felt anger flare within himself. Striding to the corner of the chamber, he reached into a cupboard and drew a pair of red aprons, lined with golden trim. He flung them at the feet of his two nephews, so they had to stoop to retrieve the clothing.

“There, put these on.”

The aprons tied around the waist and hung down to knee height: but only at the front. The buttocks of the wearer were left bare and exposed, in a gesture of humility on the priests behalf. And a gesture that Thorin knew he would find irresistible.

His roving hands would have full access to those firm, squeezable buns.

Thorin watched as Fili and Kili wrapped the coverings around themselves, glad to at least have something to hide their full frontal nudity from the lewd eyes of their uncle. They could feel his gaze all over their bodies, and knew his intentions towards them were not noble.

“There’s just one more thing.”

Thorin lifted a finger, bidding his nephews to be still. He strode around to the back of the altar, and found what he was looking for.

A pair of solid gold manacles, fixed to the ground by the altar on a long, golden chain.

“Come here, Fili.”

His nephew’s eyes widened, but he came as he was commanded.

“Put out your hands.”

And as the young dwarf stretched out his hands, Thorin lifted the manacles from the floor. Fili saw what he meant to do, and shook his head.

“Don’t do this, Thorin. Not here, not in front of Kili.”

But the king ignored him, and took his wrists. The golden handcuffs were shut tight, and Fili was now bound to the altar.

“You worry too much, Fili. I think you should take some time out, alone in here, and meditate on your problems. Pray to Mahal, and ask what you should do as a penance.”

Thorin affixed his hand to Kili’s shoulder, steering the lad closer towards him.

“How about you and I take a walk around Erebor, Kili. There’s something I want to show you...”

The young dwarf swallowed, and stared at his uncle with his big, brown eyes.

“You won’t hurt me, will you? You’re acting strange, Uncle, and it scares me. Why can’t Fili come too?”

Thorin considered his blonde nephew, staring at him with obvious anger in his eyes.

“Oh, Fili will be coming soon enough, Kili. You have my word on that.”

Thorin led his young nephew out of the temple, walking in single file behind him so he could watch the way his cheeks swayed as he walked. The little tease was no doubt doing it just to make him harder, and soon he would get what was coming to him.

From behind him, he could hear Fili’s attempts to unlock the manacles even as he locked the heavy iron door, but he knew it would be to no avail. Those cuffs had been made by master dwarf craftsmen, and there was no undoing them without the key. The key that Thorin intended to keep firmly inside his own pocket...

“Lead the way, Kili, I’ll tell you which way to go.”

Thorin reached a hand out to nip at Kili’s buttocks, but thought better of it at the last moment. Best wait until they’d reached the room itself, and then he would show Kili what was in store for him.

He could feel himself hardening at the thought of it already. Kili would be straightforward, and compliant. Thorin would show him how sensitive and tender his own touch could be, and would soon have his nephew’s body wrapped around his own again.

And this time, Thorin would not stop until he’d felt Kili’s soul, and bound it to his own.


End file.
